Mad, Mad World
by Feline Alchemist
Summary: Eventual PruCan, USUK, others. Ties of blood drag Matthew Williams down into the seedy world of underground gangs and cut-throat killers, and with so much at stake and so little idea of how to handle any of this, who can he trust, and for how long?
1. Chapter 1

**Just a short intro chapter to hopefully capture everyone's attention ^^**

**Enjoy ~ **

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Thunk.

Matthew groaned as his cheek rubbed against scratchy carpet that most certainly wasn't his bed's sheets. He wiggled out of the tangled mess of blankets wrapped around his body and stumbled over to his nightstand, slamming his palm over the alarm clock that had so rudely awoken him.

That was the third time this month that he'd fallen out of bed, having the wits scared out of him by his alarm clock. That thing was dead-set on giving him a heart attack one of these days, he just knew it.

Grabbing his glasses and slipping them on his face, he shook his head wistfully and made his way into the kitchen of the small appartment he shared with his brother. His twin, to be exact, Officer Alfred F. Jones of the Los Angeles police department.

Matthew really wished he would find a new job, one that was less dangerous and... Life endangering. But seeing Alfred's eyes light up when he talked about a perp that he had caught or a case he had closed, Matthew rememered why he never pushed it on him.

He rubbed his eyes sleepily as his toast sprung out of the toaster and he picked up gingerly and began to nibble away at it. Speaking of Alfred, where was he? He would usually be wolfing down a bowl of fruit loops, tie flipped over one shoulder as he watched early morning cartoons before he had to head in to the station.

But this morning there was no sign of him.

Only yesterday's newspaper lying on the table, the front page's bold headline staring up at Matthew:

TWO MEN FOUND DEAD AT WHARF 31; SUNFLOWERS LEFT AT SCENE POINT TO GANG ACTIVITY.

Matthew sat down at the table, pushing the paper away and heaving a heavy sigh.

Sunflowers. Alfred had been talking a lot about a case he was working on recently, something about a really powerful gang lead by someone called The Russian, and for some reason he kept babbling on about sunflowers as well, like they were connected.

He had complained for days how his cheif wouldn't let him pursue any leads on him, saying it was too dangerous to be taken on alone and that he should leave to more experienced officers. But both he and Matthew knew that that wouldn't deter Alfred; in fact it made him want to look into it even more. That was Alfred for you.

Matthew found himself sighing again as a loose knot of anxiety began to form in his stomach. Alfred had probably been out on another stakeout last night, trying to dig up more dirt on the Russian, and had crashed at his partner's house. Said partner was Arthur Kirkland, an Englishman living in LA who had joined the force six years ago and took Alfred under his wing as a rookie. Arthur was on Matthew's side and didn't want Alfred going out and being reckless like that, but Arthur always supported his brother in the end.

The two had hooked up about a year after Alfred had joined the force and the two had been in a steady relationship since then. Matthew had always liked Arthur, and was honestly happy for his brother when he'd heard that the two had finally gotten together. But even with Arthur there to help Alfred with whatever self-proclaimed mission he was on, Matthew worried about him. About them both, really. He always got so nervous when Alfred didn't come home at his usual time, his mind automatically produced the worst scenarios of why he was late. Probably too much crime drama tv, he told himself.

Seemed to be telling himself that more and more recently...

He supposed Alfred was finally getting somewhere with his unofficial investigation, but he wasn't sure. Even for a big-mouth like Alfred the police department was very hush hush. Brushing crumbs off his fingers and onto his pajama pants Matthew stood, sluggishly dragging his slippered feet towards the front door, making to retrieve the morning paper.

Maybe there'd be something for him in the want adds. He'd been unemployed for three months and he was getting terribly restless. And it didn't help that Alfred, by far the more lazy of the two, had a fulltime job while hard-working Matthew was sitting at home all day eating maple ice cream and watching televised hockey games and nature documentaries.

He stopped short of the door, however, and looked down at a small white envelope that had apparantly been slipped under the door. He bent down and picked it up, noticing as he brought it closer to his face that it had his name printed on it, in a swooping scrawl of non-cursive handwriting. His brow wrinkled in confusion as he sat down where he crouched, just in front of the door, and opened the envelope.

He pulled out a folded slip of white paper with very little writing on it, but it didn't need more.

It's messege was clear, and it hit Matthew like a sledgehammer to the chest, gripping his heart with an icy grasp and making him unable to breath.

He dropped the envelope, which hit the ground with a muffled thunk, as there was something still inside it, and he slumped against the wall.

_1176 South Veranda Blvd. 20 minutes. Come alone, tell no one. Disobey and he dies. _

Then there was a drawing of a bright yellow sunflower shining happily up at him. Matthew drew in a shuddering breath and let the letter flutter to the ground, his hands shaking too badly to hold it any longer. He didn't know what to do, what to think. His brain wasn't cooperating with him, like it was malfunctioning.

This couldn't be happening. It was unreal, something out of a horror story...

Matthew shakily picked up the envelope again, remembering how it had landed heavily. He turned it upside down and let it's contents fall, his heart stopping and his eyes going wide.

He let out a choked sob.

There, on the floor of their shared appartment, sat Alfred and Matthew's father's dogtags from his days in the military. Every day since he had died in combat and they'd sent his tags back, Alfred had worn them to honor their father. And now they were not around Alfred's neck, but sitting on Matthew's floor...

Covered in blood.

**Dun dun DUN! **

**Reviews are love! **


	2. Chapter 2

**This chapter isn't much longer than the first one, but meh. It's my style, I guess...? **

**Anyway, enjoy~ **

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><p>A sharp wind cut through the desolate city street and ruffled Arthur's blond disheveled locks as he took a long drag on his cigarette. He cast one more glance in either direction before he wrapped his coat tighter around himself and flicked the cigarette to the ground, crushing it between the cement below and the toe of his boot.<p>

Stupid git. How many timed had he lectured Alfred about going on these rediculous stakeouts alone? Hadn't he drilled it into the other man's head by now that he could trust him? With anything?

Arthur shook his head and leaned on his car, a black undercover police vehicle. He'd had a general idea of which part of the city Alfred had been snooping around in, and seeing as S. Veranda Blvd was the only one in the area with a McDonald's on it - Arthur rolled his eyes at that thought - that's where he'd decided to look for him first.

He'd driven over to Veranda that morning, ready to throttle Alfred for making him worry and staying out all night, and all he'd found was Alfred's car, full of fast food wrappers and comic books. Everything that fit into the atmosphere of one of his stakeouts was there except for his box of files with his collected 'evidence' and Alfred himself. This had only made Arthur worry more, and he fished a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket and made to light another one up.

Nervous habit. Alfred had brought up more than once his feelings about it, how he wanted Arthur to quit. Bloody sod, he'd smoke all he liked if Alfred was going to keep stretching his nerves like this!

He retrieved a lighter and sparked a flame, holding it to the white tube between his lips when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

He instinctively ducked behind his car, knowing full well the kind of people who did their business on that street, and squinted at the figure who was quickly advancing to a particular, old looking warehouse. The figure, Arthur could tell it was a blond male now, was slowly getting nearer to him, whipping his head around nervously, like he didn't quite know where he was.

Arthur watched as the man, thin with midlength blond hair, scanned each building on either side of the street, getting closer and closer to the Englishman's vantage point. He couldn't explain the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach keeping him hidden behind his car, and as the man came steadily closer, about fifty feet or so away, Arthur's confusion just about doubled.

The man was visably shaking as he came up on the builing he must have been looking for, and he was clutching a white piece of paper tightly in one hand. But what sent Arthur reeling was that the man about fifty feet away, trembling in front of an enormous warehouse building and looking like he was on the edge of tears, was Alfred's brother Matthew.

_What the bloody hell was Matthew doing here? In this part of town?_

Arthur was about to yell out and stop him from going in, ask him what _exactly _he was doing there, but he was torn. That feeling deep in his stomach was keeping him rooted in place, keeping himself hidden.

_Probably my detective senses_, he mused to himself with a healthy dose of sarcasm, and he obeyed his gut and didn't move until Matthew had shakily walked into the building.

Then Arthur waited a few minutes before stealthily rising to follow him.

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><p><em>It's ok Matthew, just breath. Breath! <em>

Matthew closed his eyes and took a deep breath, quivering uncontrollably. He exhaled and took one last, long look at the entrance to the building before him.

1176 South Veranda Blvd.

The building where his brother had been taken to.

Where he was hurt and bleeding...

Possibly dead...

He took in a shuddering breath and angrily wiped the inklings of anxious tears that threatened to spill over his cheeks.

_Come on, pull yourself together! You have to stop your crying and march in there and save Alfred! _

Why did his inner monalogue always sound so much more confident than he actually was...? Argh, he hadn't the time for that now! He'd just spent the past nineteen and a half minutes having a panic attack and threatening to kill google maps if it didn't load his goddamn directions!

But this was definitely the right place, and his twenty minutes were almost up... Right. No more stalling. Alfred was somewhere in that building and he needed his help! Matthew stood up as straight as he could and slowly made his way up to the door and walked inside.

As soon as the door closed behind him a wicked chill ran up Matthew's spine. That was a pretty radical temperature change... He shook it off weakly and continued on down what was apparently a wide hallway, the walls were a dark rusty color, and there were several places where water dripped from the ceiling.

It really was right out of a horror movie...

A little ways up the hallway bent to the right and as he rounded the corner he jumped in surprize. He stopped dead in his tracks as he was suddenly face to face with a very tall, very muscular man with short blond hair and a piercing gaze. The frames of the stranger's glasses glinted in the shallow incandescant light that flickered above them and Matthew could feel himself start to tremble under the scrutiny.

"Williams." the man said, almost grunted, folding his arms in a gesture that clearly said to Matthew, 'you had better be'. Matthew nodded and the man stepped aside, revealing a metal door. Matthew took it as the go ahead and he pushed it open, trying to swallow the lump in his throat as he heard the man follow him in and the door clang shut behind them. Matthew suddenly noticed that they were on a staircase that the door had opened to and stopped, and he had to have the stranger growl deeply behind him before he was jolted bck into motion.

They ascended in scilence and Matthew was beginning to wonder how people could build a staircase this long before they finally reached the top and went through another door.

The room laid out before him now was completely cotradictory to the rest of the building, and it took Matthew completely by surprise. The carpet was a lush ruby red color, as were the beautifully apholstered victorian style chairs and couches that lined the walls tastefully. A large, gilded chandelere sparkled with a muted, almost hazy light hanging above a cherry wood desk near the back of the room. Behind the desk sat a man with silver blond hair and striking amethyst eyes, a long cream-colored scarf draped around his broad frame.

"That will be all, Berwald. Thank you." his voice was cheery, but it was laced with malice, and it made Matthew's stomach clench. It was also heavily accented... Russian. It must be. Matthew's heart sped up at the realization.

The man, Berwald, turned and wordlessly exited they way they had came. Then the other man spoke again.

"Please, sit down Matthew." he gestured to a red armchair facing the desk from Matthew's side, and the fact that this man knew his name made his blood run cold. Matthew shakily complied and he couldn't stop himself as words came tumbling out of his mouth.

"Wh-Where is my brother? What did you do to him? Why-" he was cut off as the man raised a finger to silence him and an innocent looking grin crept across his face, like he was enjoying Matthew's discomfort.

"Do not worry pretty little head, I have your brother," a loud thunk could be heard from some room to Matthew's left, "but we have things to discuss first, da?"

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><p><strong>Reviews are greatly appreciated, I need to know if this story is worth continuing ^^; <strong>


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